


Shades of Mine

by littlebirdtold



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Regression/De-Aging, M/M, POV Outsider, Pon Farr, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdtold/pseuds/littlebirdtold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the juiciest scandal of the decade. These are widely known facts:<br/>1) On Stardate 2258.266, Commander Spock marries Lieutenant Nyota Uhura. Captain James T. Kirk is his best man.<br/>2) On 2259.092, a mission goes awry, and Captain Kirk is irreversibly turned into a ten year old.<br/>3) On 2259.155, Captain Spock and Lieutenant Uhura legally adopt the boy.<br/>4) Eight years later, Commander Uhura resigns from active duty and files for divorce. The rumor has it their son is the reason.<br/>Those are the facts, but they don't tell the whole story. This is a story about family, acceptance and different shades of love. Told through Uhura's, McCoy's, Spock's and Jim's eyes.</p><p>Warnings: age difference (35/18), pseudo-incest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There are no "good guys" and "bad guys" in the story—just people and their feelings—but the content of this story might be offensive and/or upsetting to some readers. Please read the summary and the warnings carefully.Thanks to the lovely awarrington for her invaluable input.  
> Also, in this fic, Spock was born in 2232, not 2230.
> 
> Written in 2011. Set after ST XI.

 -Nyota-

   
   
When the Captain is turned into a ten-year-old child, no one is particularly worried. Stranger things have happened since the beginning of the  _Enterprise_ 's voyage and no one expects that the Captain's condition will last. Truth be told, Nyota is pretty amused by the whole thing.  
   
Kirk makes a cute child. He has no memories beyond the time he was ten and is highly suspicious of everyone. He asks hundreds of questions only to pout and accuse everyone of lying when the answers aren't to his liking. He seems unable to believe that he has joined Starfleet, but at the same time seems fascinated and excited that he's the Captain—friggin'  _Captain_ —of the ship.  
   
He goes very quiet upon finding out that his brother and mother are dead but otherwise doesn't show any emotion. Nyota knows it can't be a healthy reaction and tries to comfort him, but Jim just gives her a don't-be-ridiculous look and says that it would be stupid of him to get worked up over something that didn't even happen to  _him_.  
   
She doesn't buy his bullshit but lets it go—because he asked her to. She's been doing that a lot lately,  but what she can do? The kid is cute as a button. He is tiny for a ten year old, his baby-blues huge on his small face, and it's incredibly hard to say "no" when he looks at her with puppy eyes. She will never, ever, admit it to Kirk when he's back, but she is growing quite fond of his young self.  
   
One evening, she admits it to Spock as they prepare for the night. She expects him to raise an eyebrow and give her that look she loves so much—the look of carefully concealed amusement—but instead, Spock frowns and doesn't answer.  
   
Feeling a twinge of concern, Nyota sits next to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. Spock flinches slightly.  
   
She tells herself that she isn't offended. They have been married only for half a year, so it's only natural that Spock is still uncomfortable with casual touches. Spock isn't the touchy-feely type, after all. To put it lightly.  
   
"What is it?" she asks, removing her hand.  
   
"It has been eleven days, Nyota," he says quietly, his eyebrows furrowed.  "Doctor McCoy has been working without rest—"  
   
"Yeah, and he will find the cure," she cuts him off.  
   
Spock looks down, his face blank.  
   
"No, he will not," he says quietly and there is…something in his voice that makes her ache. "McCoy has reported today that there is no cure and that the device that transformed Jim into a child will kill him if we attempt to subject him to it again. It is a wonder it did not kill Jim the first time."  
   
She stares open-eyed at him, unable to believe her ears. "But—  Is that why you had a private communication with the Admiralty today?"  
   
He nods slightly. "Indeed."  
   
"And?"  
   
 He looks at her, eyes dark and inscrutable. "As of midnight tonight, I am the Captain of the  _Enterprise_."  
   
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, not knowing what to say.  
   
Oh god. Kirk really isn't coming back.  
   
She can't believe it.  
   
They have never been friends, but she grudgingly respected him. Kirk was a good captain—  
   
She freezes, realizing that she is thinking of him in the past tense.  
   
But then, he's as good as dead, because the boy currently occupying the captain's quarters isn't Captain Jim Kirk she knows, at least not yet, and maybe never will be.  
   
Oh god. The boy.  
   
"What about Jim?" she says. "What's going to happen to him?"  
   
"Jim," Spock repeats, as if not understanding who she is talking about.  
   
"The kid, Spock," Nyota says gently, her heart aching for him. Kirk might not have been her friend, but he was Spock’s. She can even admit that sometimes she was envious of how close and comfortable they were with each other.  
   
Spock's adam's apple bobs up and down. "Admiral Pike stated that since his mother is dead and his brother recently perished on Deneva, and there are no other relatives, he will be relinquished for adoption."  
   
She frowns. "It will be very hard to find a family for him. He's a cute kid, but he's much older than most people want when they go looking for a child." She sighs, her throat tightening with pity. "He'll be put in an orphanage."  
   
"That has occurred to me also."  
   
Spock looks at her.  
   
 _No_ , Nyota thinks when she realizes what he wants.  _Absolutely no._  
   
She's too young—they are too young. They just recently got married. Space isn't the place for a kid. She's not mother material. And it's Jim Kirk they are talking about. She didn't even  _like_  him, for God's sake.  
   
It's crazy. Absolutely crazy.  
   
But then…But then she thinks of the small boy with huge blue eyes sleeping in the adjoined room, of his brave little face when he told her that he didn't care that his family was dead, and hears herself say, "All right."  
   
She's twenty-six and has never been more scared.  
   
 

 

~*~

   
   
At first, it's not easy.  
   
The paperwork and legal issues aside, there's also McCoy, who is very much against them adopting the kid. The doctor argues that a spaceship isn't the place for a child, that it's too dangerous, that Jim needs kids his own age, and, most of all, he doesn't "trust the hobgoblin to raise the kid right." But although McCoy is fiercely protective of the boy and stubborn as a mule, Spock can be just as stubborn. The arguments between them are truly epic, and McCoy goes as far as threatening to resign from Starfleet and taking Jim with him to Earth. They would never know if he'd follow through on his threat or not because Jim puts a stop to the arguments, stating that he's staying on the ship, end of story.  
   
Jim Kirk could always out-stubborn both Spock and McCoy, and it seems it doesn't matter whether he's twenty-six or ten.  
   
Those issues aside, she and Spock have a hard time adjusting to having a child. She's been told that being thrown into parenthood is never easy, but she thinks it's especially challenging when the child in question is already ten and is Jim Kirk. There is a matter of Jim's education to work out, and many, so many, other things. She suddenly has to make  _decisions_  on behalf of another sentient being, and it's scary as hell. Nyota knows that it's harder for her than for Spock, because Spock isn't prone to over-thinking, and being in the command team, is accustomed to taking responsibility for the others' lives  
   
They often have to take opposite shifts in order not to leave Jim unsupervised and have to figure out who will look after him when they can't. Of course, McCoy is more than willing to do the honors, but McCoy is the CMO and often is busy, too. Thankfully, Chekov, Scotty, and Sulu are happy to help, and many other crewmembers volunteer, as well. She's grateful, but at the same time she's not sure they're doing a good job as parents; this is not the way a family is supposed to work. With that in her mind, Nyota tries to ensure that they have at least one meal a day together, but it's rarely possible, and more often than not, she finds that it's either Spock and Jim or Jim and her.  
   
At first, being alone with the kid so often is strange to her. She knows it's different for Spock. Spock was Jim Kirk's friend. She wasn't. Spock has had a true affection for the kid from the very beginning. She hasn't. She knows Jim can tell; kids are good at sensing stuff like that. Even though Jim is a bit wary of Spock, too, he's never openly hostile with him as he can be with her. In fact, before long, Jim is following Spock around like a puppy starved for attention, and Spock's reserved nature doesn't seem to nonplus him. Actually, quite the opposite: it looks like Jim sees it as a challenge and the green light for the operation ‘Get-Spock-to-hug-me.’  
   
"Jim, Spock doesn't do hugging," she tells him one day over lunch. She tries not to sound amused or condescending but apparently fails, because Jim glares at her.  
   
"How do you know?" the kid says stubbornly.  
   
She snorts. "I'm his wife. I would know, don't you think?" Unfortunately, she does.  
   
So no one is more startled than Nyota when one day she returns from her shift to find Jim and Spock sitting on the bed next to each other. One of Jim's arms is wrapped around Spock's waist and his small golden head is on Spock's shoulder as he listens intently to Spock's astrophysics lecture. It's almost too cute to watch. And too strange. She's not hurt—just confused as hell.  
   
While Jim gets attached to Spock pretty quickly, she can't say the same thing about Jim and her.  
   
In the first couple of months, she and Jim have quite a few screaming matches and arguments about everything and nothing. She finds out that a ten-year-old Jim Kirk likes rules even less than the grown-up one, but eventually they come to some sort of understanding: Jim stops questioning her authority every goddamn time and she stops ‘pestering’ him so much ‘over nothing.’ It's still not easy, and there are mornings when she wakes up and for a moment forgets that there is a child sleeping in the adjoined room—the child she is responsible for.  
   
Being a parent is scary as hell, but she is nothing if not dedicated. She learns. Sure, makes many mistakes along the way, but learns.  
   
And in the end, it's worth it.  
   
So fucking worth it, because gradually, Jim warms to her. At first, it's subtle: he stops scowling so much, stops avoiding her hands as she straightens his clothes or pats him on the head, stops throwing hissy fits for no apparent reason and smiles more around her.  
   
God, it's stupid how such small things can make her feel so happy and accomplished, but they do. If a few months ago someone told her that one smile from a ten-year-old boy would make her feel more accomplished than getting a Starfleet medal, Nyota would have laughed in their face.  
   
She has never considered herself particularly maternal, but something about Jim touches her and makes her protective instincts kick in. When they adopted him, she didn't expect how much she would grow to love this child, how much he would start meaning to her.  
   
Seven months after they adopted him, she says it to him as she kisses him good night.  
   
Jim just stares at her with wide eyes full of suspicion and mistrust, and she hugs him hard, because god, this boy has such trust issues no child of his age should have.  
   
He doesn't say that he loves her back, and that's okay. She doesn't expect him to.  
   
The next day, Jim sneaks out of his room after curfew to the Engineering deck—where he's been strictly forbidden to go after the incident a month ago that scared her and Spock shitless (well, as much as Spock can be scared shitless). When Engineer Olsen hails her in the middle of the night and tells her that Jim is there, she's furious. Spock is down on the planet on a mission, so she goes to the Engineering deck alone, fuming. But when she sees Jim's almost expectant face, her anger evaporates. She wraps an arm around his narrow shoulders and leads him to the turbolift. "Come on, hon," she says softly and smirks on the inside seeing the range of emotions on Jim's face: from such disappointment to tentative hope.  _God, this boy._  
   
It doesn't stop at that. Throughout the following months, Jim stubbornly keeps pushing her—testing her—but Nyota can be just as stubborn.  
   
She is determined to win.  
   
Jim is eleven when he tells her that he loves her. She barely registers it—she barely registers anything, because she's too busy trying not to bleed to death in the transporter room. But when she wakes up in sickbay, she remembers Jim's words ( _"All right, I love you, happy now? Don't you dare die, you hear me? I don't give you permission!"),_  and she laughs. She can't stop laughing despite the fact that her laughter makes her wounds open again.  
   
Jim is twelve when he calls her Mom for the first time, and Nyota freezes, a part of her truly terrified, but the other, ridiculously thrilled and proud. She loves this boy—she loves her boy.  _Her son_ , she corrects herself, hugging him with a grin. Because he  _is_ her son. She does not remember when she stopped seeing him as her former captain completely, but these days she barely remembers that the boy in her arms is essentially the same jerk whom she despised during their Academy days.  
   
Yes, she is only twenty-eight, and she's too young to have a twelve-year-old son, but fuck if she cares. She loves him almost as if he were her own.  
   
She is happy. She has a successful career, an amazing, smart son and a gorgeous, intelligent husband. What more can a woman wish for?  
   
True, with Jim's entrance into their life, Spock and she don't have much time to themselves, but she supposes it's only normal. It’s only normal that their personal life suffers since they work different shifts.

Isn't it?  
   
One night, they are lying next to each other, not touching—something that still somewhat bothers her. It's been three years since they got married. Shouldn't Spock be past his issues by this time? She loves Spock, but hell, sometimes she wants some quality snuggling like any girl. She has tried to talk about it with Spock a few times, but he never says anything definite, always shutting down, then changing the subject.

"Are you happy?" she asks.  
   
"Happy?" Spock repeats, as if the word is unfamiliar to him. It's dark in the quarters— _Spock's old quarters_ , she thinks with resignation. For a reason known only to him, Spock insists on staying in the first officer's quarters, even though he has been the Captain for two years. Sometimes she wonders if he misses Kirk. He must do. There are times when she catches him looking at Jimmy with an odd, far away look, something like sadness lingering in his dark eyes.  
   
No, she's sure he loves their boy; it is impossible to miss Spock's affection for him. In fact, if she's honest with herself, she's envious as hell of Jim, because Spock allows him things he doesn't let her get away with: things like climbing into his lap and snuggling to his chest, things like putting a head on his shoulder as Spock works on his paperwork. She can't help but think that it's unfair to her and that Spock spoils Jim rotten, even though he always denies it when accused of such a thing.  
   
"Yes, are you happy?" she repeats.  
   
"It is illogical to—"  
   
" _Spock_. Don't."  
   
Spock doesn't reply immediately.  
   
"I am…content."  
   
She turns her head to him, but can only see his profile in the darkness.  
   
"The  _Enterprise_ 's mission is ending soon," she says quietly.  
   
"Indeed. In 10.6 months."  
   
"We haven't talked about what we're going to do about Jim when we return to Earth."  
   
She senses him stiffen beside her. "What do you mean, Nyota?"  
   
She sighs. "He's almost thirteen, Spock. He needs to attend a normal school, to make friends—"  
   
"He has friends."  
   
"Friends of his own age," she says gently. "I know we treat him like an adult because of how smart he is, but the thing is, he isn't. He's still a child."  
   
Spock is silent for a long while.  
   
"What are you suggesting?" he says finally.  
   
She takes a deep breath. "I think we should leave him with my sister in Dallas for a while. She has two kids his age—"  
   
"NO!"  
   
They both jerk their heads to the bathroom door as it whooshes open. There is a small figure standing in the doorway, and even in the darkness, Nyota can see that Jim is shaking. She sits up, torn between scolding him for eavesdropping and hugging the hell out of him.  
   
"Jim, were you eavesdropping again?" Spock says, a note of fond exasperation creeping into his voice.  
   
"I don't wanna leave! Don't make leave!" Jim says, and god, even his voice is trembling.  
   
Spock sits up.  
   
"Come here,  _tal-kam_ ," he says with a small sigh, and Jim makes a beeline for him. Nyota tells herself that she's not jealous as Jim climbs into Spock's lap and Spock embraces him tightly. She always feels a bit awkward at times like this, because she knows that if she tries to join the hug, Spock will tense and it will only ruin the moment.

Her lips twist as she remembers the one and only time she tried it.  
   
It was more than a year ago. Jim had had a nightmare and came to their room, freaked out. Her first instinct was to try comforting him, but it wasn't her he wanted. For a few minutes, she watched Spock hug Jim and stroke his back, whispering softly into his ear, and she had never felt more bitter and jealous in her life. The funny thing was, she wasn't even sure of whom she was jealous more. Finally, tired of being forgotten, she tentatively put her arms around them. Jim didn't react at all, and while Spock didn't shrug her hand off, he tensed ever so slightly—but enough to make the moment awkward as hell.  
   
Now she knows better than try it again.  
   
"Why do you want to get rid of me,  _al_?" Jim mutters into Spock's neck as Spock strokes his back soothingly. "Did I do something wrong? Don't you— Don't you love me anymore?"  
   
Nyota frowns at the use of the term " _al_." She doesn't understand why Jim still doesn't call Spock Dad. He calls her Mom, after all, and as much as it pains her to think of it, she suspects that Jim loves Spock more than her. It fucking hurts that the boy she's given up so much for may not love her as much as he loves Spock, but she knows it's most likely true. So why does he call Spock " _al_ "—the loose term for any male relative or even some distant cousin? It's not like he doesn't know the word for "father" in Vulcan; Spock has been teaching him Vulcan since they adopted him, and Jim is more fluent than her now.  
   
"Honey, we love you," she says gently, laying a hand on his back.  
   
"Spock?" Jim says in a small voice, and she lets her hand fall.  
   
If she's honest with herself, it  _stings_  that her words aren't enough to reassure him.  
   
"Do not be illogical, Jim," Spock says quietly, brushing his fingers through Jim's floppy blond hair. "You are well aware that I cherish you."  
   
"Then why do you want to leave me in Dallas? I don't fucking care that I don't have kids my age around!"  
   
"Language," Nyota chides him.  
   
Jim snorts into Spock's neck. "Oh come on, mom. I've heard you cuss hundreds of times!"  
   
"Unlike you, Jim Kirk, I'm an adult. When you're my age, you can do as you want—"  
   
"I'm actually your age," Jim grumbles barely audibly. She freezes. It's very rare that Jim talks about it. Usually he likes to pretend that there has never been another Jim Kirk.  
   
"No, you are not," Spock says quietly, and there is something in his voice that makes her wish she could see his face.  
   
Jim seems to sense it as well. "It's because I'm not him, huh?" he says angrily, trying to pull away from Spock. Spock doesn't allow him. "Let me go!"  
   
He's practically a teenager, she realizes. God, soon they can expect teenage tantrums.  
   
"Cease struggling. Jim, what are you talking about?" Spock says slowly.  
   
"You know what I'm talking about!  _Him_! The other me—the perfect one! Do you think I'm  _stupid_  or something? I know you miss him!"  
   
"Computer, lights at forty percent," Spock says, and she blinks a few times at the sudden light.  
   
" _Tal-kam,"_  Spock says softly but firmly, taking Jim's chin and forcing him to look at him. Jim stares at him with huge, glistening eyes. "You are partly correct. It would be…a lie to say that I do not miss him." Jim's bottom lip starts wobbling. "But you are very mistaken if you think that I resent you for being you; I do not. If I were given a choice between him and you, I could never choose someone other than you." Spock presses a dry kiss to his forehead. "You are my Jim." Nyota bites her lip. Spock's words sound…foreign to her ears.  
   
The smile that Jim gives Spock is breathtaking, and involuntarily, she is reminded of Jim Kirk's womanizing ways. In a few years, her boy will start breaking hearts.  
   
God, she isn't ready to be a mother of a teenager. But then, she wasn't ready to be a mother of a ten year old, and she did all right, didn't she?  
   
 

 

~*~

 

 _Two years later_  

  
   
She's a communications specialist, but ironically, someone else has to point it out to her for her to notice.  
   
They are in Dallas, visiting her sister while they wait for the  _Enterprise_  to be updated and modified for the second five-year mission. It's taking longer than they expected—it's been over half a year—but Nyota finds that she doesn't miss being in space. Lately she has been working on a very interesting project concerning the Preservers' language, and it's so fascinating that a part of her doesn't want to leave it—and Earth—when it's time to go back to space. In this aspect, she's not like Jim and Spock, who are getting antsy with every passing day; she can tell.  
   
"Honey, I'm not sure if it's my place to tell you, but…" Saya starts hesitantly one evening.  
   
"Yes?" Nyota prompts.  
   
Her sister looks uncomfortable. "Don't you think your son is a bit too old to be sitting on his father's lap?"  
   
Nyota stares at her for a moment before following Saya's gaze to the terrace, where Spock is sitting in the armchair. As usual, Jim is half-draped over him, laughing about something, and Spock is listening to him with an amused tilt of his eyebrow.  
   
Nyota frowns, realizing how odd it must look. Jim is really too old to sit in Spock's lap. He's fourteen—almost fifteen—and even though he's still small for a fourteen year old, he no longer looks like a kid. He's even gotten an "adult haircut," and without his floppy hair he looks startlingly similar to Jim Kirk, only smaller and lankier.  
   
 _Don't be an idiot, Nyota_ , she tells herself. He  _is_  Jim Kirk—of course he will look more and more like the Jim Kirk she knew the older he gets.   
   
And yet, the thought unsettles her.  
   
"He's just an affectionate kid," she tells her sister with a smile. "I'm sure he'll grow out of it soon enough."  
   
She believes it, really, but after that, makes sure to observe them more closely.  
   
What she sees unsettles her even more.  
   
Jim  _is_  affectionate and touchy-feely—he hugs her often enough, too—but the way he hugs Spock is…different. When he hugs Spock, Jim presses against him with his whole body and squeezes so tightly that it looks like he's trying to crawl into Spock's skin. There is also Jim's weird habit of climbing in Spock's lap whenever Spock lets him get away with it, even when there are perfectly adequate seats available; and then there is Jim's habit of wrapping his arms around Spock's neck and kissing him on the cheek when saying goodbye or goodnight—which, she realizes with a sinking feeling, is more than a little strange for a teenage boy to act around his adoptive father.  
   
But what unsettles her most is the fact that Spock still doesn't shy away from the touches. She always thought—tried to convince herself—that the reason for Spock being so affectionate with Jim, as opposed to her, is because he's a kid. But Jim is no longer a kid, and yet Spock still doesn't seem to have any problem with touching Jim and doesn't even blink when Jim climbs into his lap—the same Spock who looks highly uncomfortable every time she touches him out of bed.  
   
Nyota isn't sure what to make of that, but after some thought, she decides that perhaps Jim just needs to spend more time with teens his age.  
   
With that on her mind, the very next day she tries to persuade Jim to go out with Saya's children.  
   
Jim is instantly suspicious. "Why?" he says, crossing his arms over his chest, blue eyes fixed on her. At this moment, he looks so freakishly like Kirk that it weirds her out.  
   
"Because your father and I need some alone time," she replies, perhaps emphasizing the word 'father' more than necessary.  
   
Something shifts in his expression. "You mean you want me out of your hair so you can fuck."  
   
"Jim!" she says, flushing. Fucking hell, she never blushes about sex, but this is her boy, who isn't supposed to think about his adopted parents having sex, let alone talk about it.  
   
Rolling his eyes, Jim snorts. "Oh come on, mom. I'm not a kid." He looks away, shrugging slightly. He doesn't meet her eyes. "Whatever. I'll go out with Ginny and Rick, then." He stalks away and slams the door behind him. Hard.  
   
She stares at the door and tells herself that she's imagining things. Jim can't possibly be…jealous, can he?  
   
Can he?  
   
She is thirty-one, and she's never felt so lost.  
   
 

 

~*~

   
   
Soon after that, the  _Enterprise_ 's launch is announced, and in the following excitement, she manages to push away the thoughts about Jim's possible crush on Spock. Even if it's true, it'll pass, she tells herself. And even if it's true, it wouldn't be that surprising, when she thinks about it. Despite being his legal parent, Spock isn't related to Jim, and Jim is well aware of that. Spock is also gorgeous as hell—a fact that makes Nyota a bit envious because the years are showing on her. Oh, she knows she still can turn men's heads, but she no longer looks like the skinny hottie who stepped aboard the  _Enterprise_  six years ago, while Spock—damn his Vulcan physiology—looks like he's not a day over twenty-five.  
   
"I'm getting old," Nyota says one morning, looking at the mirror and eyeing her lush curves critically. God, is she really thirty-two? It feels like only yesterday she was twenty-five and applying to serve on the  _Enterprise_. And it feels like only yesterday the  _Enterprise_ 's second mission started, but with her new First Officer duties, she barely notices how quickly months pass. A part of her  can't believe they're already a year into the second mission.  
   
Nyota frowns, finding a new wrinkle. "I'm getting old," she repeats louder when there's no reaction from Spock.  
   
"Indeed, you are," Spock says, stepping out of the sonic shower and starting to pull on his uniform. Even after five years of his wearing a gold command shirt, she still doesn't like seeing him in it. The science blue suited him much better. "We all are."  
   
She chuckles softly. "Yeah, easy for you to say when the average lifespan of Vulcans is 220 years. You're going to look like you're twenty-something until you hit your fifties." She eyes her flat stomach. "Do you think…" She hesitates.  
   
"Yes?"  
   
"Do you want a baby?"  
   
Spock's hands freeze on his zipper for a fracture of a second. "Why are you asking?" he says, zipping up. "Do you wish a child?"  
   
Shrugging, she stares at her reflection, wondering about his strange reaction. She tells herself not to be ridiculous. Maybe he was just surprised. Hell,  _she_  can't believe they are having this conversation. "Just wondering. Jim is growing so fast, and I'm not getting any younger, so…"  
   
In the mirror, she can see Spock looking at her seriously, a slight frown between his brows. "Nyota, you do know that Vulcans can impregnate females only during…"  
   
"Pon farr," she finishes for him. Of course she knows; Spock informed her of Vulcan marital customs and physiology before their marriage. Strictly speaking, in the eyes of Vulcans, they aren't even considered married—not until they get bonded before Spock's pon farr. Nyota shivers slightly at the thought. She knows they should get bonded as soon as possible—should have gotten bonded years ago—but she just…can't. She thought that she'd get used to the idea, but the longer it goes on, the less she likes the mere thought of some Vulcan adept messing with her mind; it's just too alien and revolting. As much as she loves Spock, she doesn't want him in her  _mind_. She likes her privacy.   
   
She's somewhat surprised but grateful that Spock isn't pushing the issue.  
   
He inclines his head, looking rather uncomfortable. "According to my calculations, the likelihood of my Time increases in probability from 17.4% this year to 100% in the fifth year of the mission.  If you wish to have a child, we can—"  
   
"What child?!"  
   
Suppressing a sigh, Nyota turns around and looks at Jim, who is standing in the doorway, face red with rage. "Jim," she starts, but the teen cuts her off, yelling accusingly,  
   
"Are you pregnant?"  
   
"James, cease yelling at your mother at once," Spock says quietly but coldly.  
   
Clenching his hands into fists, Jim looks between them before stomping back to his quarters, probably regretting as hell that he can't slam the door.  
   
Spock sighs. "I shall speak to him."  
   
He punches in the captain's override code and enters Jim's room.  
   
Nyota closes her eyes and listens tiredly to the yelling. Jim is almost sixteen. At his age, he likes to yell.  
   
"Go away! Leave me alone!"  
   
"Jim, cease being so illogic—"  
   
"You can go shove your logic up—"  
   
"James Tiberius Kirk."  
   
"Don't you  _James Tiberius Kirk_  me! You aren't my fucking father. I fucking hate you! I  _hate_  you, you hear me?"  
   
She goes still.  
   
There is a long silence.  
   
"I see," Spock says finally.  
   
When Spock steps back into the bathroom, she doesn't know what to say to him. He doesn't meet her eyes, his face completely void of expression in that awfully still way, and she wants to strangle Jim for doing this to Spock—for having the power to do this to him.  
   
"Spock," she tries softly. "I'm sure he didn't mean—"  
   
"I am late for the shift, Commander," he says evenly and leaves, his shoulders stiff.

  
 

~*~

   
Spock and Jim don't speak for weeks, and their quarters are so thick with tension that Nyota wants to yell from frustration and kill them both.  _Men_. Stubborn, emotionally stunted  _idiots_.  
   
She's disappointed as hell that they refuse to communicate with each other, and while she expects such stubborn behavior from Jim, she didn't expect Spock to act so illogically. God, even an idiot can see how much Jim adores Spock—crush or no crush—and a few words said in the heat of the moment can hardly change it. But then, Spock doesn't know how a human teenager's mind works. She tries to explain it to him, but he always cuts her off with his dismissive "I have no desire to discuss the matter, Nyota," or worse, "I have no desire to discuss the matter,  _Commander_."  
   
The conversation with Jim goes even worse. She tells him that no, she isn't pregnant, but when she adds the word "yet," he pales, flushes and storms out of the room. Nyota doesn't know what made her say that. It's not like she  _wants_  to have a baby that much. Or does she? She isn't sure. Maybe it's just her biological clock ticking. And maybe…maybe she just selfishly hopes that a baby would make Spock and her closer. She doesn't know.  
   
Finally, on the thirty-seventh night, the door to their bedroom slides open. Nyota opens her eyes in the darkness, her back to Spock and the door. She breathes evenly, pretending to be asleep, as the mattress dips slightly under Jim's weight.  
   
"I'm sorry," she hears Jim's whisper. "Please, don't be mad at me, okay? I'm sorry, I fucked up, I was just pissed and wanted to hurt you." There is the sound of a peck on a cheek. "Please, say something, Spock.  _Spock_."  
   
Spock lets out a quiet sigh. "I wish to stay angry with you, and yet I cannot."  
   
"Hey, isn't it a good thing?" Jim murmurs with a smile in his voice.  
   
"No, it is not. Come here,  _tal-kam_." There is a sound of shifting and Nyota guesses Jim has just moved into Spock's arms. She breathes evenly, trying to suppress a surge of bitter resentment—Spock never wants to snuggle with her, and certainly never suggests it himself.  She doesn't even try to bring up the subject anymore; Spock never has an answer anyway.  
   
She keeps telling herself that it's different, that Spock is comfortable doing it with Jim because he's his child, and that it doesn't matter that Spock never calls her  _tal-kam_ —precious—or by any other Vulcan endearment. It doesn't work. It fucking hurts.  
   
Sometimes…Sometimes she wonders if Spock even loves her. He has never told her that, but she never expected him to say the words, since he's a Vulcan and honors the Vulcan way of not talking about such illogical things as emotions. She just always assumed that he did—why would he even marry her if he didn't?  
   
Though at times like this, when Spock expresses his affection for Jim so easily, she wonders if she made a big mistake by respecting Spock's boundaries and not pushing him to talk and to be more affectionate with her, like Jim did. But if she did, it wouldn't have been her. She's always despised clingy and whiny women. Nyota doesn't  _want_  to be that kind of woman, not even for Spock. She has her pride, dammit.  
   
"Mmm, missed you," Jim says, sounding completely blissed out. "So much."  
   
"And I," Spock admits quietly, and then there are the sounds of light pecks.  
   
Nyota's stomach drops. She's almost positive that this time it's Spock who is giving Jim the pecks, not the other way around. And then hot on the heels of her smouldering envy come darker, more sinister thoughts.  But no, it’s innocent enough, isn’t it? 

Isn’t it?  
   
Jim is gasping slightly, practically purring in pleasure. It sounds…almost like panting during sex. "Shit, hug me harder."  
   
"Impossible," Spock whispers. "I am already embracing you as tightly as possible without causing you pain."  
   
"Still not hard enough. Do you ever get this feeling like— like you wanna disappear in another person?"  
   
 _No_ , Nyota thinks with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  _Oh god. Jim is…_  
   
Spock says nothing for a long time.  
   
"You should return to your own bed," he says finally, and Nyota nearly cries in relief.  
   
Thank god.  
   
"Don't wanna. Want to stay with you."  
   
"You cannot."  
   
"Come into my bed, then?"  
   
A pause. "No."  
   
"Why the hell not? Didn't you miss me?"  
   
"Jim—"  
   
"Don't you love me?" Jim says, and Nyota can  _hear_  him sulk.  
   
"You are well aware of the answer, since you have asked me this particular question on thirty-nine occasions."  
   
"Yup, but it wouldn't hurt you if you say it for the fortieth time."  
   
Spock lets out an audible exhale. "I do love you. Are you satisfied now?"  
   
Jim doesn't say anything for a little while.  
   
"More than mom?" he says in a strange tone.  
   
Closing her eyes, Nyota bites her bottom lip hard as she waits for Spock's reply.  
   
"Go to your room, Jim," Spock says instead, the order clear in his voice. She bites her lip harder, not knowing what to think. On the one hand, Spock didn't say that he did love Jim more than her, right? But on the other hand…he didn't deny it, either.  
   
"Okay," Jim says, probably sensing that it's not a time for arguing. Jim is good at guessing Spock's mood—often better than she is, if she's honest with herself. "Night," he murmurs before pressing a kiss on Spock's cheek, then heads to his room.  
   
That night, Nyota barely sleeps.  
   
   
 

~*~

   
   
"I didn't fucking do it!" Jim shouts, flushing with anger.  
   
She glares at him. "Language! I left the reports on this very table and no one but you could take them!"  
   
"For fuck's sake— Why would I even take your stupid reports?"  
   
"I don't know! But only you had the access to—"  
   
Jim huffs. "Yeah, right. And why the hell are you so worked up over this anyway? It's not like you'll get a dressing-down for this! Aren't you the First Officer of the ship? And the last time I checked you were fucking the Captain, so—"  
   
She slaps him.  
   
They both freeze, staring at each other in the sudden silence, the mark of her hand very visible on his pale face.  
   
Oh god.  
   
She can't believe she did that.  
   
Slowly, Jim touches his cheek, hard blue eyes still fixed on hers and shoulders squared. Distantly, she notes that she has to look up at him a bit, despite her wearing heels. He has grown so much over the last year. He will be seventeen soon— _seventeen_. Already.  
   
"Well," Jim says quietly, his jaw working. "Maybe I deserved it." He turns around and leaves the room.  
   
As the door slides shut behind him, she sinks to the floor and covers her face with her hands.  
   
Something needs to be done. It can't continue like that.  
   
Over the past year, her relationship with Jim has deteriorated so much that she fears that it's beyond repair. She knows it's mostly her own fault: these days she snaps at Jim without a good reason, and considering Jim's hot temper, it doesn't take much to get him worked up, too. She knows she's being unfairly harsh to him, but she just can't. fucking. stop.  
   
She's jealous.  
   
She's jealous, angry, and confused. She has no idea how to act around Jim anymore. Sometimes, when she looks at him, she sees her little boy—the same wide-eyed Jimmy she adopted almost seven years ago—and becomes deeply ashamed of her own behavior. But other times, she sees a gorgeous young man so like the Jim Kirk she knew and disliked—a young man full of life and laughter, who doesn't have wrinkles on his face and excessive fat on his hips—and she can't help but snap at him.  
   
But never before has she raised a hand at him. How could she? It's not her.  
   
It's not her.  
   
"Nyota? What are you doing on the deck?"  
   
She looks up and stares at Spock standing in the doorway—at his young, athletic body, and young, unwrinkled face—and thinks,  _Enough_.  
   
"Jim has a crush on you." She watches his reaction carefully, but other than the slight flare of his nostrils, she can't find any. "You aren't surprised."  
   
Spock clasps his hands behind his back, his face expressionless. "Negative. I was aware of the development."  
   
She laughs, the sound harsh even to her own ears. "Yeah, it's kind of hard to miss." Her laughter dies as abruptly as it started. "So what do you think?"  
   
Spock walks to the desk, and picking up a PADD, examines it, turning his profile to her. "'Think'? There is nothing to think of, Nyota. I have been told that it would pass as all teenage affections eventually do."  
   
She narrows her eyes. She isn't the best communications specialist in Starfleet for nothing. She knows that Spock isn't as calm and nonchalant about the topic as he pretends to be.  
   
"Yeah? Who told you that?"  
   
"Doctor McCoy did."  
   
She frowns, unsure how she feels about McCoy knowing about the whole messy situation. She should probably go talk to him—as Jim's doctor and good friend (or favorite uncle), he might have some valuable input—but she's not particularly eager to discuss it with anyone. It's just…okay, embarrassing as hell.  _Doctor, my son has a thing for my husband, and I suspect that it's not completely unreciprocated._  Yeah, she's not very keen to go to McCoy.  
   
She sighs, getting to her feet. "Maybe he's right. Jim probably just needs a girlfriend, or boyfriend, to transfer all his affection to."  
   
"Indeed," Spock says, and if his tone seems a bit strange, she tells herself that she's just imagining things. "You have not told me what you were doing on the deck. Has anything happened in my absence?"  
   
Swallowing, she meets his brown eyes. "I…"  
   
Spock raises his eyebrow slightly. "Nyota?"  
   
She licks her lips. "I had an argument with Jim, and I…"  
   
Spock tenses visibly, examining her face. "What happened, Nyota?"  
   
For a moment, she considers lying, but he would find out anyway when he sees Jim's face. She looks down. "I…hit him."  
   
There is a moment of silence before Spock says in a very low voice, "Pardon?"  
   
She steps back. "Look, it just happened— If you heard his words, you would've— He provoked me!"  
   
"You are an adult," Spock says, his voice dangerously even. "He is not. You should have never—"  
   
She looks up and glares at him. "You don't know what it's like! Try to put yourself in my place, dammit! My son has a thing for my husband! Do you think it's easy for me? And why don't you do anything about the situation?!"  
   
Spock's lips press into a thin line. "What do you suggest I do?"  
   
"I don't know!" she yells. "You can— You can try discouraging him for a change!"  
   
Spock visibly stiffens. "Are you inplying that I somehow encourage him?"  
   
She huffs. "Of course you do! Maybe not intentionally, but you do. You tolerate him snuggling to you, kissing your cheek—"  
   
"And you wish me to push him away," Spock says quietly.  
   
"You push  _me_  away, don't you?" she says with a twisted smile.  
   
A muscle in Spock's jaw flexes. "I shall consider it," he says just as quietly before adding in a steely voice, "You will never strike him again." He turns around swiftly and leaves the room.  
   
"I won't," she whispers, sinking to the deck again.  
   
They're all right, she tells herself stubbornly. Everything will be all right.  
   
She doesn't believe it.  
   
   
 

~*~

   
She doesn't know what Spock has told Jim, but she notices that after that day, it stops.  
   
It stops.  
   
There is no more draping his body all over Spock, no more pecks, no more snuggling. Jim keeps his distance and rarely meets Spock's eyes.  
   
She should be relieved, and she is for a little while, but her relief evaporates when she notices how the changes are affecting Spock. He becomes tense, snappy and stressed out. It's probably not very noticeable to the casual eye, but she isn't a casual eye. She watches him—watches him meditate longer and longer with each passing day, but meditating doesn't seem to help much. She didn't realize before how much Spock relied on Jim's affection. Whenever Spock had a bad day—had a stressful mission or had to deal with a crewmember's death—it has always been Jim whose silent comfort he accepted.  
   
Jim, not her.  
   
And now, with Jim keeping a careful distance, Spock seems to have reformed back to his old self—the one with a stick up his ass. She didn't realize how much Spock had mellowed over the years until it was gone.  
 

 

 

  
 

~*~

 

  
It's Jim's seventeenth birthday, and since the  _Enterprise_  is in orbit over Arlena for shore leave, there is a huge party in his honor in one of the local clubs. Nyota isn't surprised that every crewmember who's down on the planet has decided to attend the boy's party instead of having fun somewhere else. It's not at all because of the fact that Jim Kirk was their captain; a good part of the crew has changed since Kirk's captaincy, so some of them didn't even know the former Jim Kirk. No, the crew adores Jim to bits because he's literally grown up on the ship and spends all his days among the crew, learning from them and working with them. Sometimes she thinks that Jim knows the  _Enterprise_ _'s_  crew even better than she and Spock, which says something.  
   
Thoughts about Jim make her eyes seek him out, but he's not where she saw him a few minutes ago. Frowning, Nyota looks around the club, feeling a twinge of concern. God, she's being ridiculous—he might have simply gone to the bathroom. Arlena is a peaceful, prosperous planet, but then, one never knows, so she's pretty uncomfortable leaving a seventeen year old unsupervised among aliens.  She knows she's being overprotective and knows Jim hates when she acts like that, but sometimes she can't help it.  
   
She looks around again, squinting, but the flashing lights make it hard for her to see anything, and she moves deeper into the dancing crowd, smiling at the people she knows.  
   
When she finally sees Jim, she comes to a halt.  
   
Jim is in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a handsome dark-haired boy—if that can even be called dancing, considering that Jim's tongue is in the other boy's mouth and the boy's hands are all over his ass.  
   
Nyota feels her cheeks heat up. She feels incredibly awkward—almost as awkward as she felt when she caught her parents having sex—but at the same time…she's overwhelmingly relieved.  
   
Someone touches her elbow, and turning around, she finds Spock, who has a slight frown on his face.  
   
"Nyota, where is…" Spock starts over the music, but trails off, staring at some spot over her shoulder. At Jim. His expression doesn't change, but the way he simply  _stares_  with no expression whatsoever makes her highly uncomfortable. For a few seconds, he is silent. "I see," he says finally before turning around and disappearing in the crowd.  
   
Later that night, when Spock and she return to their hotel room above the club, there is a "Do Not Disturb" sign on Jim's door.  
   
They both stare at it for a moment before entering their own suite.  
   
"God, he's so young," she says with a small laugh, slipping her shoes off. He's not that young—she doesn't think so. She simply doesn't know what the  _hell_  to say to Spock. Damn it, this is a whole new level of awkward.  
   
Spock says nothing, undressing briskly.  
   
"We can only hope he's being safe and—"  
   
"I have no desire to discuss the matter, as you are already aware Doctor McCoy gave Jim detailed instructions about the necessary precautions."  
   
In other words,  _shut up_ , Nyota translates in her mind and falls silent.  
   
After they get into the bed and turn the lights off, Spock silently rolls on top of her.  
   
The sex that follows is pretty spectacular, and if there is something edgy and angry about Spock, she chooses not to comment on it.

And she doesn't comment either when afterwards Spock rolls away to the very edge of the bed without uttering a single word.  
   
She closes her eyes and tells herself that she is  _so_  not crying.  
   
Nyota Uhura doesn't cry, dammit.  
   
   
 

 

 

~*~

 

  
   
The next morning, when Jim comes to their suite for breakfast, she does her best to pretend that everything is great and chatters non-stop about nothing in particular while observing the two out of the corner of her eye.  
   
For a guy who got laid last night for the first time in his life (at least she assumes so, since the  _Enterprise_  hadn't had a shore leave for over a year, and there have been no rumors of Jim's sleeping with any crewmembers), Jim doesn't look particularly happy. He's idly playing with his food, blue eyes downcast and face pale.  
   
Every time Nyota looks at Spock, she finds him watching Jim with a slight crease between his brows.  _He is concerned,_ she realizes and frowns when it occurs to her what Spock must be thinking. What if… What if that boy hurt Jim? Like, sexually?  
   
Despite all her mixed feelings about Jim and the whole messy situation, the mere thought of his being hurt like that sickens and angers her. If that fucker hurt him...  
   
"Jim, are you finished?" Spock says, pulling her away from her thoughts.  
   
"Yep," Jim says, but doesn't look at him.  
   
"In that case, I wish to talk to you about the last night's—"  
   
"What? No way," Jim says, not meeting his eyes.  
   
"I think you should talk to us," Nyota says.  
   
Jim laughs awkwardly, flushing. "Come on, guys. Just don't, okay? I'm fine—"  
   
"Are you hurt?" Spock says tersely. Nyota finds herself staring. She's never seen Spock looking so murderous. "Did that… _individual_  hurt you?”  
   
Blushing even harder, Jim rolls his eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake. I'm fine. The sex was great. No one's hurt, really."  
   
"You are lying," Spock says with a glare.  
   
Cocking his head, Jim narrows his eyes and meets Spock's gaze. "Why would I be lying, Spock? The sex was awesome. Amazing. Fantastic. I had a lot of fun." He smiles. It's not a nice smile. "He had such a talented tongue, and his coc—"  
   
"Enough," Spock grits out. She can see him grip the armrest so hard that his knuckles turn white. "Very well. If you do not wish to discuss it with us, we will respect your wish. However, you  _will_  talk to Doctor McCoy and let him perform a medical examination. Is that understood?"  
   
Jim glares but nods reluctantly.  
   
Spock doesn't look relieved. In fact, his mood appears to have darkened.  
   
Nyota feels like screaming.

 

-McCoy-

 

  
   
When Jim walks into the sickbay and flops down on a biobed, McCoy grumbles, "About time," and pulls out his favorite tricorder.  
   
Jim sulks but lets him take the readings without any protest.  
   
McCoy looks up from the tricorder to watch the kid. At seventeen, he looks almost exactly like the other Jim Kirk, only a bit shorter and slighter. The most noticeable difference is that this Jim's skin is unmarred and unscarred—no bar brawls for him.  
   
McCoy nearly snorts at the thought. As if the hobgoblin would allow anyone to as much as lay a finger on the kid, much less to scar him.  
   
The thought sobers him and he remembers the purpose of the visit.  
   
"So," he says casually. "I've heard the little Jimmy got laid yesterday. Aren't you a bit young, kiddo?" He says that mostly to annoy the kid; he knows the other Jim lost his virginity at fifteen.  
   
Jim rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, I'm fucking seventeen, Len."  
   
Len. This is another difference. But McCoy knows how Jim Kirk's fucked up little mind works, no matter how old he is, so he gets why Jim stubbornly insists on not using the nickname his other self came up with.  
   
"Yup, seventeen," he says with a sigh, suddenly feeling old as hell. Damn, he's only thirty-nine, but next to this Jim he always feels ancient. He's man enough to admit that sometimes he misses Jim—his best friend Jim—but this kid pulls at his protective side like no other. He was a big brother to the old Jim Kirk, but McCoy often feels like a father to this one. "Hmm, you're as healthy as a bull," he says, looking over the readings. "No tearing—"  
   
"Len, come on," Jim says, flushing. "We didn't— I mean, sure, Farhaat wanted to, but I didn't let him. It was just a few blowjobs and handjobs, and some fingering and rimming. I couldn't…"  
   
McCoy looks at the kid for a few moments and has to suppress a sigh. "It's about Spock, isn't it?"  
   
Jim looks away, his jaw clenching.  
   
McCoy swears under his breath. He's known about Jim's little thing for Spock for ages: the kid hasn't exactly been subtle. Actually, he's pretty sure that ever since Jim figured out how his dick works, he's been jacking off thinking about Spock.  
   
Grimacing at the disturbing image, McCoy says, "Look, kiddo, we talked about it, didn't we? Your, eh, feelings for Spock are just an innocent crush that will go away as soon as you find another object for your affections." He prays to all gods that it's true.  
   
Jim's shoulders slump. "Yeah, sure."  
   
McCoy looks at him suspiciously. "You aren't telling me something."  
   
Jim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Last night, during sex, I…"  
   
"Let me guess: you imagined that it was Spock, right?"  
   
Jim winces. "Well, yeah, but it's not only that. I…I felt like I was cheating on him or something, which is fucking ridiculous, I know, but…"  
   
McCoy pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yes, ridiculous. For the last time, Jim: you should forget the goddamn hobgoblin. Spock is your adopted  _father_. He's twice your age. He's  _married_. Married to the wonderful woman you call mom."  
   
He almost feels sorry for the kid as he looks more and more stricken with every word. Almost. He knows those words need to be said. They might hurt the kid, but it's for the best. The sooner he forgets about Spock, the better.  
   
 _Though it's been years already_ , a small, annoying voice whispers in the back of his mind.  _And yet Jim isn't showing any signs of growing out of his crush._  
   
McCoy ignores it, because he doesn't even want to think about the possibility that this  _thing_  might be something more serious than a case of puppy love.  
   
"Can I ask you something?" Jim says, and McCoy's eyebrows fly up. The kid usually never asks for permission.  
   
"Sure," he says, frowning.  
   
Jim averts his gaze. Licks his lips. "Did he have a thing for Spock, too? Or is that just me?"  
   
He doesn't have to ask about who ‘he’ is.  
   
He stares at Jim, unsure how to reply.  
   
This is a hard question. Sometimes… he thought that there was  _something_  there, something in the way his friend looked at the hobgoblin, but he'd never been sure. The other Jim was much harder to read than this one. The only time McCoy saw something definite was the day of Spock's and Uhura's wedding: something like regret and longing in Jim's eyes, but it disappeared so quickly that he wasn't sure that he hadn't imagined it.  
   
"I don't know, Jim," he says with a sigh, rubbing his face. "Even if he did, he sure didn't tell me."  
   
Jim is silent for a moment.  
   
"Do you think mom knows?" he says, still not looking at him.  
   
McCoy winces. "Yeah, probably."  
   
Jim covers his face with his hands. "Fucking hell. This is a whole new level of awkward."  
   
McCoy snorts. "You can say that again."  
   
"I had a guess for a while that she knew, but… Dammit."  
   
McCoy doesn't know what to say.  
   
They fall silent.  
   
Finally, Jim says quietly, "Do you think she hates me?"  
   
He pinches the bridge of his nose again. Goddammit, he wants the old Jimmy Kirk back. The old Jimmy Kirk would never want to talk about those icky feelings. "Why would she hate you, kiddo? I'm sure she still loves you."  
   
"Spock hates me."  
   
McCoy snorts. "Yeah, and Earth's sky is green."  
   
"He told me that."  
   
Raising his eyebrows, he gives Jim a skeptical look. "Really? He told you that he hated you?"  
   
Jim shrugs, his lips twisting. "Well, not in those words exactly, but it was pretty clear what he meant. He said that I should stop touching him." He chuckles. "Hell, I'd never been so humiliated in my life. I didn't know my touches disgusted him so much. I guess he just hid it well, not wanting to hurt my  _feelings_  or something."  
   
McCoy sighs heavily. "Forget him, kiddo. For fuck's sake, Spock isn't the only guy out there—"  
   
Jim chuckles, chuckles again, and then starts laughing. It's not a happy laughter.   
   
When his laughter dies, he says quietly, staring at his hands, "You know, I got my first real hard-on at twelve, when I was hugging him."  
   
"Er."  
   
"I thought it was just a fluke," Jim says with a crooked smile. "I mean, he's supposed to be my father, though I've never really seen him as a father. So I thought it was a fluke. But then it kept happening again and again, and fuck, was it embarrassing and confusing. I'm pretty sure Spock noticed it from the very beginning." Jim grimaces. "It's kind of hard to miss a boner pressed into your stomach, huh? But he's never said a thing, so I figured it was no biggie. He was just so great about the whole thing—he didn't act like he was disgusted with me and didn't shy away when I touched him." Jim flushes, brushing a hand through his hair. His lips curve into a self-depreciating smile. "So like a fucking idiot, I started thinking that maybe— that it might mean something, that he doesn't mind, that he loves me back—"  
   
"Jim, for the last time: you don't love him! It's just a case of a puppy love mixed with teenage hormones." He grimaces. "And okay, I've gotta admit Spock is far from being ugly, so it's only natural that you developed a bit of a crush on him."  
   
Jim meets his eyes. "Don't tell me what I feel, okay? I know what I feel."  
   
McCoy smiles tightly. "Jim, teens your age always think that it's some epic love while in reality—"  
   
Jim glowers, jumping off the biobed. "Do you think that I fucking love being in love with him? That I enjoy it? I fucking hate it, okay? I  _hate_  it, Len! I hate this awful jealousy I feel every time I see them in bed—I hate that sometimes I hate mom, that I fucking—" He swallows hard, blue eyes glistening. "Sometimes I think…I imagine what it would be like if she just disappeared…and then I feel sick as hell for even thinking about it— I love mom, how can I even think about it?!"  
   
McCoy's chest aches. "Goddammit, kiddo," he says before pulling him into an awkward hug.  
   
Jim hugs him hard, burying his face in his shoulder. "I'm not an awful person, right?" he whispers hoarsely. "Right?"  
   
"No, you aren't, Jim," he says with a sigh, his stomach twisting into knots.

The situation is more serious and messy than he thought.  
 

  
 

~*~

 

  
A few minutes after Jim leaves the sickbay, the doors slide open again, revealing Spock.  
   
"Doctor," he says, hands clasped behind his back.  
   
"Captain," McCoy grumbles, glaring at him. He knows it isn't exactly fair to blame Spock for this whole mess, but fuck if he cares. The kid is hurt, and it's ultimately Spock's fault. "What do you want?"  
   
"I wish to know the results of Jim's medical."  
   
He wants to tell him to fuck off, that it's between him and the patient, but Spock is Jim's legal guardian and has every right to know. They both know it.  
   
"He's fine," he grunts, and then adds, watching Spock carefully, "A few bruises here and there, but that's about it."  
   
Spock's eyes darken. "Bruises?" he says in a very even voice.  
   
McCoy shrugs casually. "Look like hickeys to me."  
   
Oh yes, here it is. Fucking hell, he had his suspicions, but…  
   
"You're one sick fuck, Spock."  
   
The goddamn hobgoblin has the nerve to raise an eyebrow. "Pardon?"  
   
McCoy is torn between being grossed out, punching him and laughing his ass off at Spock's predicament. "You want the kid for yourself. You sick fuck."  
   
Spock stares at him with no expression whatsoever. "I refuse to gratify such a ridiculous statement with an answer."  
   
McCoy snorts, growing more incredulous by the minute. "Yeah, right. You were literally green with jealousy just a moment ago. Goddammit, Spock— He's a fucking kid! He's  _seventeen_. You're thirty-four! I know by Vulcans standards you aren't even an adult yet, but dammit!"  
   
Spock looks away, his jaw clenching. "I have no comment on the matter. I must insist that you return to the subject at hand. Is Jim's condition satisfactory?"  
   
He sneers. "I already told you he's fine, but that's not what you want to know, right, Spock?"  
   
Spock meets his eyes firmly. "I do not understand your meaning, Doctor."  
   
"Oh you do. You want to know if he was fucked, don't you?"  
   
Spock says nothing for a while, simply holding his gaze.  
   
"Yes," he admits finally. "I am concerned that he might have been hurt—"  
   
"Bullshit."  
   
Spock gives him a cool look. "Are you implying that I do not care about Jim's well-being, Doctor?"  
   
McCoy snorts. "Oh you care, all right. Just not like a father is supposed to care about his son."  
   
"I have no intention of continuing this discussion," Spock says stiffly, and turning around, heads to the exit.  
   
"He still has his cherry," he says as Spock reaches the door. Spock's steps falter only for a fraction of a second, but he still notices.  
   
 _Goddamn_ , he thinks as the door whooshes shut behind Spock. Who would've thought that Spock—the biggest fan of regulations and rules—would get himself in such a messy situation. He almost feels sorry for him. It must be one hell of a mind-fuck for the bastard.  
   
 

~*~

 

-Jim-

   
   
When he hears the door slide open, Jim goes still, barely breathing. He is lying on his stomach, face buried in the pillow, so he can't see who it is but he knows it can be only one person: only the captain's override code could open the lock.  
   
He opens his eyes to the semi-darkness of the room—as usual, the lights are set at 10%--and listens intently.  
   
The sound of footsteps approaching. Spock comes to a halt near the bed.  
   
The back of Jim's neck prickles under Spock's gaze, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware that he's wearing only his white boxer-briefs and nothing else.  
   
Shit. He's practically naked.  
   
Jim's cock starts fattening at the thought.  
   
Does Spock like what he sees?  
   
 _Don't be ridiculous, Jim,_ he scolds himself, lips twisting. _Of course he doesn't. He probably isn't even looking._  
   
And never mind that Jim's favorite jerk-off fantasy about Spock is eerily similar to this. In his fantasy, Spock comes to his room at night and quietly jerks off watching Jim sleep. Then the fantasy-Spock tugs Jim's underwear down and buries his face against his butt before pulling his cheeks apart and kissing, licking him there, just like Farhaat did.  
   
Jim bites his lip hard to keep himself from moaning. Shit, definitely not the time to fantasize about Spock when Spock is in the room. It's a stupid fantasy anyway. Never going to happen—which is the point of fantasies, so having them isn't a crime. No reason to feel guilty about. Yeah. Right.  
   
He wonders what Spock is even doing here. It's nearly 0200 in the morning. Surely he doesn't want to talk in the middle of the night? And what could he want to talk about anyway? Jim has kept his distance, as Spock asked him, and stopped bothering him with his "physical affection." Spock should be happy, shouldn't he?  
   
Jim strains his ears but he can only hear Spock's slightly uneven breathing.  
   
Finally, there are the sounds of footsteps again. Spock is leaving.  
   
Jim's gut ties in knots.  
   
"Spock?" he says, turning on his back.  
   
Spock stops, then turns around. He's wearing his black silky meditation robe, and Jim licks his lips, his cock going painfully hard. He has quite a few fantasies about that robe, too.  
   
"Jim," Spock says quietly, dark eyes flickering to the bulge tenting Jim's underwear. Crap.  
   
"What did you want?" Jim says casually, pretending that they both don't know about his boner. It's not the first time, after all. Hell, far from it.  
   
For a moment, Spock looks like he doesn't know how to respond. "I wished to talk," he says finally.  
   
Jim sits up and pats the place next to him. "Take a seat."  
   
Looking at him warily, Spock visibly hesitates.  
   
"For fuck's sake," Jim says with an eye-roll. "I'm not gonna bother you with my 'inappropriate displays of affection,' _al_."  _Yeah, and never mind my hard-on._  
   
Spock walks over and takes a seat beside him. His eyes are inscrutable, but Jim can sense that he's uncomfortable.  
   
"Could you please dress yourself?" Spock says stiffly, gaze firmly fixed on Jim's face.  
   
Jim shrugs. "I'm hot." It's partially true, but to be honest, he takes a perverse, twisted pleasure in making Spock uncomfortable. Spock thinks he's disgusting and sick for wanting him? Hell, maybe he is. Let Spock see  _how_ much he wants him.  
   
Jim arranges himself into a lotus position, aware that his hard-on looks obscene under the thin boxer-briefs. He raises an eyebrow at Spock.  
   
Spock clears his throat slightly. "You are angry with me."  
   
Tilting his head, Jim meets his eyes. "Why would I be angry with you?"  
   
Spock stares at him for a long moment before lifting his hand and touching his cheek. Jim shivers and barely forces himself not to lean into the touch like an affection-starved kitten. It's been almost three months since they touched each other, and it feels like he's starving for Spock's touch.  
   
"I do not like it when you are angry with me,  _tal-kam_ ," Spock says softly, looking him in the eye.  
   
"I'm not angry." Okay, maybe he  _is_  leaning into the touch. Just a bit. "It's you who thinks that I'm, like, sick." Something lodges into his throat and Jim swallows hard.  
   
Spock sighs, the back of his hand slightly stroking Jim's cheek. Damn it, if Spock keeps it up, he might start purring.  
   
"I do not think that you are 'sick,' Jim. I am not disgusted with you. I am sorry if I gave you that impression."  
   
Jim frowns. "Then what's the problem, Spock?" He bites his lip. "It's not like you didn't know for ages that I…love you like that."  
   
Spock inhales sharply before exhaling slowly. Jim forces himself not to break the eye-contact. He won't look away. He's not ashamed. Yes, it's the first time either of them mentioned it aloud, but he's not going to be a chicken about it.  
   
Something shifts in Spock's eyes before he says quietly, "Come here."  
   
God, it's embarrassing as hell how eagerly he goes into his arms, but fuck it. Straddling Spock's lap, Jim wraps his arms around Spock's strong back and presses his nose against Spock's neck. God, he missed him. So much.  
   
Spock embraces him hard and kisses him on the temple. "I know you think you love me," he says, pressing another kiss to Jim's hair. "But you do not. No, listen to me first before voicing your objections." Jim nods, kissing Spock's neck. Spock takes a shaky breath in. "Your sexual attraction to me is not abnormal for a young male of your age. You are merely confusing the attraction and affection you feel for me for romantic love."  
   
Jim growls in frustration and lifts his head to glare at Spock. "What's up with everyone telling me what I feel? Don't you think  _I_  would know better, dammit?"  
   
Spock just looks at him for a few moments before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. His lips are dry and hot. Jim badly wants them on his lips.  
   
"In time, you will learn that I was correct," Spock murmurs.  
   
Jim snorts. "And what if you aren't?"  
   
"I am. In a few years, you will meet someone your own age and will fall in love truly," Spock says and his arms tighten around Jim.  
   
"No, I won't," Jim says, growing pissed. God, he's so sick of people telling him what he feels and what he doesn't.  
   
"Yes, you will. Do not delude yourself."  
   
Fucking hell.  
   
Flushing with rage, Jim jerks out of the embrace and off Spock's lap back on the bed. "You know what I think, Spock? I think you're sticking to this explanation because it suits you better. If my feelings aren't real, then you don't have much of a problem, right? This— _I'm_  just an inconvenience to you and Mom, admit it!"  
   
"You are mistaken--"  
   
Jim scoffs, looking away. Fuck, does it hurt. "Get the fuck out of my room. I don't want you here."  
   
He doesn't look at Spock but can feel him staring at him.  
   
Finally, Spock says, "Very well," and stands up.  
   
As the door whooshes shut behind him, Jim exhales, and pulling his knees to his chest, hugs them tightly. His eyes are stinging and he blinks furiously.  
   
God, how he hates it. Hates this overwhelming love choking him from the inside. Hates this sickening jealousy and guilt rising in him every time he looks at Mom. Hates this ridiculously strong, helpless affection and longing for someone he isn't supposed to love—someone who'll never return that love. Someone married. Someone married to the woman who took him in and has been a great mom for him.  
   
And fuck, he gets why they don't believe that he loves Spock: he's seventeen. Jim is pretty sure people aren't supposed to have those kind of feelings at seventeen. At seventeen, normal people have  _crushes_ , not real love, for fuck's sake. So yeah, he gets it, but it doesn't make them right.  
   
He wishes they were.  
   
 

~*~

 

-Nyota-

   
   
She knows she's being a coward.  
   
If she were braver, stronger, she would confront Spock about his feelings for Jim, but turns out, she is neither stronger nor braver.  
   
She's scared. Scared of Spock's answer if she asks him. Scared of losing Spock, Jim—her family.  
   
Months pass, and every day she puts on a smile and keeps pretending that everything is all right.  
   
She pretends that Jim doesn't stare at Spock with hungry eyes like he wants to jump on him and never let go, and she turns a blind eye every time she catches Spock looking at Jim with endless fascination and barely concealed want. She pretends that it's completely normal that she and Spock haven't had sex for months, and that it's completely normal that Jim doesn't spend much time with them anymore, always ‘busy.’ She pretends that it's not a big deal that on every shore-leave, Jim hooks up with some dark-haired male, and she pretends that she doesn't notice Spock's face turn into stone, his fists clenching behind his back so hard that she almost feels sorry for him. Almost.  
   
She's become quite adept at pretending.  
   
But there's a part of her that wants to scream and push Spock and Jim to each other, so that this miserable excuse of a life finally ends. The funny thing is, she's not even sure that she still loves Spock. This whole mess has done something to the way she feels about him, her love overshadowed by anger, confusion and resentment for so long that what's left is not the love she used to feel for him but just a very pale shade of it.  And Spock's ever-growing distance from her is doing nothing for her feelings or for their relationship. Sometimes… sometimes she almost hates him.  
   
She knows they need to talk it out. She doesn't want to.  
   
 _Coward_ , she tells herself, looking at her reflection. She doesn't recognize herself. Is this her? This bitter,  _weak_ woman, scared of the answers?  
   
It is.  
   
More months pass, and Nyota receives a Starfleet Medal of Valor for ‘courage and outstanding service to the United Federation of Planets’ and is promoted to full commander. She nearly laughs in Admiral Komack's face when he pins the medal to her chest.  
   
 _Valor, my ass._ What an irony, god.  
   
A few months later, Jim turns eighteen and receives the rank of ensign, thus becoming the very first Starfleet officer who received a rank studying off-Starfleet Academy. Yes, Jim is lucky that the  _Enterprise_  had enough officers of commander's rank qualified to teach him, but it's still not an easy accomplishment, and she's never been prouder. Jim is her son. Nothing will change that.  
   
A month after that, her house of cards collapses.  
   
   
 

 

~*~

   
   
Nyota enters their quarters with a sigh, and immediately takes off her boots. Fuck, her legs are killing her. She can't believe she used to wear heels all day long. Good times.  
   
"I'm not that old," she mutters, scolding herself. She's only thirty-four, for crying out loud. Far from her death bed.  
   
Straightening up, she finds herself looking at Spock's back. She frowns. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge? This is your shift."  
   
"I reported unfit for duty," Spock replies, and there is something…strange in his voice. "It is time, Nyota."  
   
Her frown deepens. "Time for what?"  
   
"It is Time."  
   
Her mouth falls open.  
   
 _Oh_.  
   
"You're at pon farr?" she whispers. God, how could she forget? Spock told her a few years ago that his pon farr was approaching.  
   
"Yes," Spock says, looking out the small observation window they had installed before the second mission.  
   
She stares at his straight, tense back, not knowing what to say. They haven't been intimate for months—almost for a year—so she feels kind of strange about having a wild sex marathon with him after so long.  _No logic, no rational thought,_  Spock told her years ago.  _I won't be able to control myself at all. I might hurt you._  
   
"Okay." She tries to smile, but her lips don't work properly. "So what do you need from me?"  
   
"I need you to assume the command of the ship and have me locked in my quarters until we reach New Vulcan."  
   
She blinks. "What?"  
   
"You heard me," Spock says, still not turning around. "I have just given the order to change course for New Vulcan. Starfleet's permission has been received. Official reason for the change of course is that T'Pau requested the  _Enterprise_ _'_ s presence during diplomatic talks with the Remans."  
   
Nyota frowns, wondering why she doesn't know about it. "How long have you known? It looks like you have everything set up already."  
   
"I have known for thirteen standard days."  
   
Her jaw drops. "And you haven't said anything?!"  
   
"It matters not," Spock says, and holy fuck, there's clear annoyance in his voice. How could she miss it? Though now that she thinks about it, Spock has been especially tense for weeks, snapping at people, but she thought it was related to…well, the usual.  
   
"Why do you want to be locked up?"  
   
"I am too close to Fever," Spock says tersely. "Obtaining permission has taken longer than I anticipated and we are too far from New Vulcan. It will take us 16.31 days to reach it at maximum warp."  
   
"Oh," she says, feeling lost. "What if we don't reach New Vulcan in time?"  
   
"Then I will die," Spock says quietly.  
   
She swallows hard. "You mean— you mean just having sex won't work?" She remembers Spock telling her that they needed to be bonded by his Time, but he never elaborated. She just assumed that Vulcans disapproved of couples going through pon farr without a marital bond. Goddammit, she should have known better than to assume, but Spock was always very reluctant to talk about pon farr, so she never pushed him—was even grateful that he didn't push her to bond with him sooner.  
   
There is something odd about Spock's voice as he replies, "Negative. I need a bond. If there is no mental connection, I will kill you."  
   
She feels a cold dread settle in her stomach. "Kill me? I thought pon farr's point was mating, not killing."  
   
Spock doesn't reply immediately.  
   
"The reason we need to be bonded is not because the bond itself is a necessary requirement for pon farr. In pre-reform times, a Vulcan male could lose the mating fever through the means of killing if no mate was available. Obviously, this is not a solution for modern Vulcans, thus a male needs to be bonded. Without the bond, I would not recognize you. I…" Spock takes an audible breath in. "Nyota, when I reach plak tow, I will lose everything that makes me sentient. I will be no better than a feral animal, driven by the urge to kill and take. A bond would allow me to recognize you as mine and therefore not a threat. Without the bond, you would be an intruder, a threat. Even with the bond in place, I will barely recognize you—only enough to mate with you and not kill you."  
   
She licks her lips. "And you can't bond us yourself?"  
   
"Negative. It is a very complex procedure, and in my state, I will gravely harm your mind if I attempt it myself, and even then, there is no guarantee that I will be successful. I am no mind adept."  
   
"Oh. I… I'll go talk to Scotty, then, see if we can get more speed."  
   
She is almost at the door when Spock's voice stops her. "Nyota."  
   
"Yes?"  
   
"Keep Jim away from me. No matter what."  
   
She closes her eyes, her stomach dropping. It's the first time Spock has admitted it.  
   
"Will do," she whispers and knows that this is it. Their marriage—their family—is beyond repair. She's been a fool to think otherwise.  
   
She thinks of the approaching bonding and realizes she doesn't want it. She doesn't fucking want to be bonded for life to a man who doesn't love her and whom she isn't sure she still loves.  
   
But she doesn't want Spock to die because she was too blind and ignorant to realize it sooner.  
   
She turns back to him, but he is back to looking out the observation window.  
   
"Is the bond breakable?" she says hoarsely, and Spock's shoulders tense up.  
   
There is a long, charged silence. They both know what she means. Divorce.  
   
"Yes," Spock says, his tone clipped. "I have been told that it is quite painful but possible."  
   
Nyota nods. She'll do what she has to. "Okay," she breathes out. "We'll do that, then."  
   
Spock is silent for a while, and then he turns to her.  
   
His dark eyes meet hers. "Am I correct in understanding that you wish for a divorce?"  
   
Divorce. It's such an ugly word—the word that is supposed to hurt. Strange, but it doesn't. It's…almost a relief.  
   
"Yes," she says firmly, holding his gaze, and for the first time in years, she feels like her old self again. What has this marriage done to her? "I don't like what we've become, Spock—I don't like what  _I've_  become. This isn't a life—this isn't what I want from my life. I'm tired."  God, it feels good to finally talk about it.  
   
Spock looks at her for a long moment. "I…share your thoughts," he says finally.  
   
Nodding, she turns to leave when Spock's voice stops her.  "Nyota?"  
   
"Yes?"  
   
"Thank you," he says quietly, and the words are laced with so many meanings and emotions that she can only nod.  
   
But then she thinks of something she always wondered about.  
   
"Have you ever loved me?"  
   
Seconds tick by as she waits for Spock's answer.  
   
"I believed I did," he says at last.  
   
She closes her eyes for a moment and then leaves.

 

 

 

-Jim-

 

  
Something's up.  
   
Spock has been isolated in his quarters for eleven days already, and no one is allowed to go in because of the quarantine. Every time Jim tries to get information from Len, his grumpy friend just says that the disease isn't dangerous but very catching, and "No, Jim, for the last time—you can't see him!"  
   
Jim doesn't buy Len's bullshit. He can see that McCoy is very worried, and with every day the lines of concern on his face seem to be etched a little deeper.  
   
His mom is acting even weirder than Len. She's very withdrawn, her beautiful face tense with worry and anxiousness, and she doesn't quite meet his eyes when she tells him that Spock is all right, "and would you please stop asking, Jim?!"  
   
Considering that they're heading for New Vulcan at maximum warp—which is a luxury they usually don't indulge in—Jim is almost sick with worry. What if Spock is seriously ill? Jim can't even be sure if Spock looked sick before he was confined to his room. He's barely seen him in the past few weeks; Spock has always been "otherwise occupied" lately.  
   
Fuck, he doesn't like it, but he can't act on vague suspicions alone. Someone—someone other than Len and mom—has to know.  
   
With that in his mind, Jim goes to the Engineering deck.  
   
"Commander Uhura asked me to get as much speed as I can, lad," Scotty tells him distractedly, frowning at his equations. "I'm looking if I can squeeze a bit more out of our girl."  
   
"Yeah?" Jim says casually, hoping like hell that Scotty is distracted enough to spill more details. "Why?"  
   
"Well, we can't let the Captain die, can we?" Scotty mutters absent-mindedly. "Your mom said he's very sick."  
   
Jim forgets how to breathe.  
   
 _What_?  
   
Jim doesn't remember what he says to Scotty, doesn't remember how he reaches his quarters. The next thing he knows, he's standing in the bathroom between his room and Spock's.  
   
Jim stares at the door, a sickening fear squeezing his stomach into a tight knot. Spock  _can't_  be dying. He can't. Not his Spock. Scotty must have gotten it wrong.  
   
Not his Spock. And why the fuck has no one told him?  
   
Jim stares at the access panel of the door, then reaches out to it.  
   
He knows Spock's room is in quarantine, which means the door can be opened only by CMO's and the Captain's authorization codes, and since the Captain is the one under quarantine, it leaves only Len.  
   
But Jim also knows something that no one else does: the  _Enterprise_ 's systems still recognize him as Captain James T. Kirk if he uses the other Jim's authorization code. Jim has no idea how everyone else seems to have forgotten it and why the glitch wasn't fixed, but technically, Captain James T. Kirk didn't die, wasn't transferred, and wasn't demoted, and therefore his personal authorization code still works. And having read his other self's logs, Jim knows the code, and since he has the same fingerprints and the same voice, it's easy to fool the computer. He rarely uses it—only when he's sure that he won't be caught—but he can.  
   
And he will.  
   
He needs to see Spock, and fuck the consequences. Jim doesn't give a flying fuck if he catches Spock's deadly disease.  
   
Because without Spock—  
   
Jim swallows hard it and punches in his authorization code.  
   
The door slides open.  
   
 

~*~

 

-Nyota-

   
   
She stares at him with wide eyes. "What? You're kidding, right?"  
   
McCoy's face stays grim and serious, lips turned down into an unhappy line. "I'm not. Spock is dying. If he doesn't fuck it out of his system within the next ten hours, he'll die. His heart will simply stop. There are already signs. Nobody can handle those insane levels of hormones for so long, not even Vulcans."  
   
She has trouble swallowing the lump in her throat. "But— But we won't reach Vulcan for another four days."  
   
McCoy simply looks away.  
   
"There has to be  _something_  we could do," she says, starting to pace back and forth. "You can't just tell me that Spock will die in ten hours and that we can do nothing to stop it!"  
   
"There might be something," McCoy says hesitantly.  
   
Nyota whirls around to him. "What?"  
   
McCoy fidgets slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Did Spock tell you why he didn't want Jim anywhere near him?"  
   
Licking her lips, she averts her gaze. "Not really, but I can guess."  
   
Her lips twist at the thought that Spock talks more openly even with McCoy than with her; it says a lot about their marriage. God, how could she have been so ignorant?  
   
"He told me that he…" McCoy starts hesitantly.  
   
She smiles wryly. "Go on, Leonard. I'm not going to fall into hysterics no matter what you say. I know about Spock's feelings for Jim." Surprisingly, saying it aloud doesn't hurt nearly as much as she expected. Actually, it's almost a relief to talk about it with someone.  
   
McCoy brushes a hand through his thick hair. "Four days ago, when I went to check on him, he… He wasn't yet in plak tow back then, but he was already half-delirious. He nearly killed me because apparently I had Jim's scent on me." McCoy shrugs at her incredulous look. "When Spock managed to get a grip, he apologized and told me that he couldn't explain it. Apparently, his body reacts to Jim as if he were Spock's bonded mate—which obviously isn't true—and the reason Spock asked to keep Jim away is because he wasn't sure he could control himself and not to…" McCoy flushes, looking highly uncomfortable.  
   
Nyota sighs. She can't say that she's surprised; she expected something like that. "And how would that help Spock?"  
   
McCoy rubs his forehead, frowning. "If his body reacted to Jim the same as to a bondmate, there are good odds that even deep in plak tow Spock would recognize him as a mate and wouldn't kill him."  
   
She stares at him incredulously. "Are you out of your mind? You're suggesting to gamble like that—to gamble with my son's  _life_? What if you're wrong and Spock does consider him a threat and kill him? Hell, Spock himself would kill me if I allowed this!"  
   
"Yeah, and that's probably why he didn't mention that option." McCoy looks at her thoughtfully. "You know, to be honest, I thought your main objection would be that you wouldn’t allow your husband to sleep with your son."  
   
She stares at him.  
   
He's right. That thought didn’t even occurr to her.  
   
Actually, the only emotion she feels when she thinks about Spock and Jim having sex is  _Ugh_ —similar to her reaction to seeing her parents having sex. She doesn't even want to think about Spock and Jim having sex—it's too weird and awkward—but she kind of feels…resigned about it. She's not a fool. With the way Spock and Jim look at each other, she knows it will happen sooner or later after their divorce; it's inevitable. Hell, if she weren't in the picture, it would have probably happened when Jim was still underage. She grimaces at the thought but knows it's true. Spock never had a superb self-control when it came to Jim Kirk—any Jim Kirk.  
   
Her mouth falls open as she fully realizes what that means.  
   
She's not jealous. She truly isn't. Just…tired. And worried.  
   
"Holy shit," she whispers with a hoarse chuckle. "I really am not in love with him anymore."  
   
It feels so…strange, not loving Spock, but at the same time, there's a sense of calmness and ease she hasn't felt for ages.  
   
McCoy clears his throat. "So what do you think of my suggestion?" He starts pacing agitatedly. "I know it's dangerous as hell for Jim, but it's the only chance—" He cuts himself off as a quiet alarm goes off.  
   
"What is it?" Nyota asks, immediately concerned.  
   
McCoy flips his laptop open and swears. "The quarantine was breached. Someone entered Spock's quarters."  
   
"How is that even possible?" she says, already reaching for her communicator to order security to Spock's cabin. If Spock hurts someone…  
   
McCoy freezes, staring at the computer. "Goddammit, I can't believe that thing still works."  
   
"What?"  
   
He meets her gaze, his eyes troubled. "The intruder used Captain James T. Kirk's authorization code. It's Jim. Looks like the decision has been taken out of our hands."  
   
She bites her lip hard. The only thing she can think of is  _I'll kill that impossible boy when I get my hands on him._ And never mind that the boy in question is twice her strength.  
   
 

~*~

 

-Spock-

   
   
He is burning. His blood is boiling under his skin, and he cannot think, cannot concentrate, his senses overwhelmed by painful arousal and need. He's breathing hard and making guttural growls as he lies on the cool floor—cool, but not cool enough. He needs—wants—craves for the coolness of the skin.  
   
He tenses. The sound.  
   
"Spock? Where are you? Why is it so dark here?"  
   
Here. What was that?  
   
His nostrils flaring, he sits up in one swift motion and looks around for the source of the noise. He growls in frustration because he cannot see properly, his vision blurry and reddish.  
   
"Computer, lights at forty percent— Fucking hell, what's up with you? Why— are you naked?"  
   
Something heads to him quickly and Spock emits a low growl, his body tensing, ready to strike. The urge to kill, the urge for blood is overwhelming, and he tackles the intruder to the ground, growling lowly. Here, he has it.  
   
"Holy shit. Spock, it's me, Jim."  
   
The creature touches his face and Spock growls and prepares to snap its neck when his scent hits his nostrils. He goes still, then inhales deeply. Yes. Here. He shoves his face against the creature's neck and growls louder, finding the source of the delicious, arousing scent. His penis throbs harder and yes—he knows what the scent is. The creature is marked by him—it belongs to him—he cannot hurt it, will never hurt it, it's his, to protect, to have, to take—his— _mine. Mine_.  
   
"Mine," he croaks out, pulling the creature tighter to himself and biting at its neck, again and again, marking him.  _Mine._  
   
The creature lets out a moan. "Holy— Spock, what are you— doing? What the hell is going on?"  
   
He silences the noise coming from the creature's mouth with his own—and  _yes_ , the taste is heavenly—he wants more and burns, and kisses harder, more, now—Jim—mine—  
   
He rips the rest of the bothersome fabric until the creature is deliciously naked under him: cool skin, the scent, the taste. He wants.  
   
He will have.  
 

~*~

-Jim-

   
   
Jim knows he should put up some fight. He knows it, dammit. It's clear that something's up with Spock: obviously he's not in his right mind, since he doesn't even seem to recognize him.  
   
But fuck, he can't.  
   
Not when Spock— _Spock_ —is kissing him. Not when he can feel Spock's hard naked body against his equally naked one. Not when Spock is sucking and biting on his neck and shoulders. Not when Spock's hands are touching him. Not when Spock's hard cock is pressed against his stomach, making his own cock throb. Not when he’s wanted this for years. Not when he loves Spock so much that he aches with it.  
   
 _Wrong, wrong, wrong,_  a small voice whispers in the back of his mind, but god, the slick heat of Spock's mouth and the feel of his body are driving him crazy, making him forget about everything and shamelessly writhe and moan under Spock, as Spock's hands roam all over him, tweaking his nipples, touching his cock and balls, and then—  
   
Jim groans as Spock's finger strokes between his cheeks. Growling, Spock pushes his legs wider and pushes his hip between them. Jim's eyes widen as he feels something blunt pressing against his entrance. "Holy fuck," he croaks out, gripping Spock biceps. "Stop."  
   
Spock just growls and pushes forward again, trembling with his whole body. Jim shakes his head frantically, hissing in pain. "Shit, too dry— You're hurting me, Spock."  
   
Spock freezes, his dark eyes examining Jim's face intently. His nostrils flare and then he leans down and begins pressing hot kisses all over Jim's face.  _Apologizing_ , Jim thinks and hugs Spock tightly, feeling such a strong wave of affection that at this moment he might even let Spock take him dry, and fuck the pain. He's no idea what's going on, but it's comforting to know that, no matter what, Spock will never harm him.  
   
Suddenly, the comm in the room comes to life.  _"Kid, are you all right?"_  
   
"Great," Jim mutters under his breath and says louder, "I'm fine, Len—as in, alive. What the hell is going on? What's up with Spock? He nearly killed me!"  
   
 _"Jim, he's—"_  
   
Spock emits a low, menacing growl.  
   
Jim goes still, looking warily at Spock's narrowed eyes. He may want to reevaluate his thoughts about Spock's not hurting him, because there isn't even a flicker of recognition in Spock's eyes. He looks murderous again.  
   
 _"What the hell was that? Jim, are you okay—?"_  
   
Spock growls louder, his nostrils flaring.  
   
"It's just Spock," Jim says slowly, not looking away from Spock's eyes. "Looks like your voice bothers him, so hurry the fuck up and tell me what's going on before he kills me because your voice is rubbing him the wrong way."  
   
 _"Fuck, all right. The thing is, Spock is sort of sick. Long story short, there's a point in Vulcan males' lives when they should either have sex or die."_  McCoy snorts when Jim makes an incredulous noise.  _"I know, sounds ridiculous, but that's the goddamn Vulcan physiology to you. Our Spock is finally man enough to have his first pon farr. He needs to fuck it out of his system within the next ten hours, or he'll die. Not exaggerating here."_  
   
Jim tries to gather his thoughts. There's no time to freak out or overthink it.  "Why is he dying if it's just about fucking it out of his system? Why isn't Mom here, with him? She’s his wife."  No, he's not bitter or disappointed at all.  
   
 _"Well, she can't, and that's the problem. Normally he would need some kind of a bond to recognize his partner as a mate and not a threat. That's why your mom can't help him, since they aren't bonded. Obviously you two aren't bonded either, but Spock seems to recognize you all right without any bond, and don't ask why—I don't know. Jim, he's— What is that sound?"_  
   
Jim can't reply because he's too busy being kissed brutally.  
   
 _"Jim? Jim!"_  
   
Spock growls and bites on Jim's lip savagely.   
   
"Goddammit, stop saying my name—it's pissing him off," Jim hisses out, closing his eyes as Spock starts biting and sucking on his neck. Despite Spock's roughness, he's hard as a rock, and how sick is that? "So what are you saying, Len: I have to have sex with him, or he'll die?"  
   
 _"Er, pretty much."_ McCoy sighs. " _Sorry, kid. I know he's no better than an animal right now, so it'll probably hurt like a bitch. Hell, if we had another option, I'd drag you out of there myself—and by the way, we're gonna have a_ nice _talk about your breaching the quarantine later."_  
   
Jim buries a hand in Spock hair as Spock bites his way to his belly, trying to stop him—he can't  _concentrate_  when Spock does it. Spock growls, and unsurprisingly, doesn't even think to stop.  
   
Jim bites his lip to keep himself from moaning. "But what about…mom?" The guilt almost makes him lose his erection.  
   
McCoy is silent for a moment.  _"She's fine with it, kid. She understands that it’s necessary. She won't hate you for that."_  
   
Jim bites his lip. "Are you sure, Len?"  
   
 _"As sure as I can be. Look, it's not my place to talk about it, but if it'll make you feel better…They're gonna get a divorce."_  
   
Jim's jaw drops. "Really?"  
   
 _"Uh-huh. Spock told me a week ago when I went to take his readings, but I think it's been coming for a while. All right, I'll have Scotty transport, er, some supplies to the room. Goddammit, I need a drink to wipe this conversation from my memory. McCoy out."_  
   
Jim looks back at Spock, his mind reeling. Spock and mom are getting a divorce? Is it because of him? Does it mean that Spock loves him, too? But then, what about mom? Does she still love Spock? And what's up with that mate thing?  
   
Dammit, his head feels like it's about to explode from all the unanswered questions and it doesn't help that Spock is fondling his balls and nuzzling at his cock. Jim moans as Spock's tongue swipes lower, between his cheeks. Holy shit, it feels so good, but he knows that it's wrong.  
   
Because Spock isn't himself. No matter this mate business, Spock didn't give his consent to this. He may end up hating Jim—though at least he'll be alive to hate him.  
   
And then there's his mom… And the fact this is not what Jim truly wants. He wants Spock, but not like this.  
   
But god, Spock is delving with his tongue into him, and fuck, Jim is a slut for a good rimjob, and considering that he's been dreaming about Spock doing it to him for ages, well. It'd be safe to say that all his rational thoughts go out of the window.  
   
He buries his hands in Spock's thick hair and pushes his ass unashamedly against his tongue, moaning as Spock eats him out, delving deeper. It feels so good, so amazing, but he wants more. It's not enough; it never is. Jim wants something thicker in him, something to fill him up—wants a cock. He always wants a cock when he's rimmed, so it's nothing new, but he's never done it because of his stupidly sentimental wish for Spock to be his first, even though he never really thought it would happen.  
   
Jim's never been more grateful for his sentimentality. Though, on the other hand, given Spock's state, maybe it would have been better if he were more experienced, but it's not like he's an ass virgin—his two dildos would disagree.  
   
"Enough," he gasps out, but his hips can't stop pushing against Spock's tongue.  
   
Either Spock understands him, or he has simply grown impatient, because soon enough, he stops, leaving Jim nearly sobbing.  _So empty._  He blindly reaches out for the supplies Len had transported into the room and nearly cries in relief as his hand closes around a bottle.  
   
Spock makes a low growl as Jim slicks him up quickly. God, he has such a lovely, perfect cock: long and thick but not too thick, and Jim badly wants to suck it, but he's too impatient now. He wants to be fucked more, his hole still twitching for something to squeeze around.  
   
Clumsy with impatience, Jim gets on all fours, knowing that it would be easier. The growl that Spock emits makes the hair on Jim's neck stand up.  
   
A part of Jim wants to laugh, because this is not at all like he imagined their first time. Sure, maybe it was ridiculous and sappy as fuck, but he always imagined that they'd make love face to face, looking into each other's eyes. So much for that.  
   
But if it's the only way he can have Spock, so be it.  
   
 

~*~

 

-Spock-

   
   
As he slowly regains his consciousness, the first thing Spock registers is absolute contentment and joy in his body.  
   
Most curious.  
   
Without opening his eyes, he quickly evaluates his surroundings. He is lying on a bed. His limbs are entangled around somebody, and his face is pressed against that individual's hair. The body in his arms feels very familiar and the scent is…  
   
Spock's eyes snap open. He jerks away, as if he has been burned, and sits up, staring wide-eyed at Jim.  
   
Who is naked.  
   
Spock is naked as well.  
   
"Huh?" Jim mumbles sleepily and blinks his eyes open. His hair is sticking up and his cheeks are pink from sleep. Spock believes the correct word to describe Jim at the moment is 'lovely,' but Jim is naked, and Spock is not allowed to think such things about Jim. "Spock?" Jim grins widely. "You're back!"  
   
Spock looks around, but there are no sheets to cover Jim's nudity. "What is the meaning of this?" he says, carefully keeping his eyes on Jim's face.  
   
Jim blinks, his grin slowly fading from his face. "Oh. Right. You don't remember."  
   
"What do I not remember?" Spock says, already knowing the answer but illogically hoping that he is mistaken. He knows he is not mistaken. The last thing he remembers is shoving Leonard out of this very room as he was entering plak tow. The only logical reason for Jim's presence here—for him being alive, naked, and in Spock's arms—is that Jim helped him through pon farr. The mere thought enrages him for a variety of conflicting reasons, and Spock has to take a deep breath to calm himself.  
   
Jim licks his lips—his swollen, red lips. Spock is not looking.  
   
"We had sex," Jim says, watching his reaction. "You fucked me."  
   
Spock is in control of himself. He is. "I did not," he says, making a considerable effort to keep his voice calm and even. "It was not me." He hopes he was successful at keeping the jealousy and resentment out of his voice.   
   
Jim chuckles slightly. "My ass begs to differ." He meets Spock's eyes. "I can even tell you how many times you came in me. I counted, you know."  
   
Spock takes a deep breath, then another one. "I do not remember." A part of him wishes he did—he burns to know how it feels like to be with Jim, in his Jim—but the other part is glad that he doesn't. The memories would be…too much. Despite the events that apparently took place during his pon farr, Jim is not his and cannot be his.  
   
He averts his gaze. "Did I hurt you? Are you hurt?" He wishes to examine Jim, to ascertain that he is not in pain, but he knows he should not. His control is not sufficient enough at the moment.  
   
"Would you kiss it better if I say that I am?"  
   
Spock turns away with a sigh. "Jim."  
   
He wishes to. More than anything. It is not something he is proud of, but there are days when he spends hours imagining what Jim's plush lips would taste like, what noises Jim would make when kissed, and— other things he has no right to imagine.  
   
Feeling Jim fully sit up and  shift to him, Spock stiffens.  
   
He closes his eyes as Jim hugs him from behind and puts his chin on his shoulder. It has been so long—more than nine months—since Jim touched him in such a way.  
   
"Why are you pushing me away, Spock?" Jim asks quietly, nuzzling his shoulder. "I know you want me. The pon farr thing is proof enough. And I know that mom and you are gonna get a divorce anyway. Len told me that. So why?" He is silent for a few moments. "Or is it just a physical thing and you don't love me like that? If that's it, just tell me so, and I'm not gonna bother you anymore, I swear."  
   
Spock looks down at Jim's bare arms around his middle before laying a hand above Jim's. Their hands are the same size. "No, that is not it."  
   
He can hear Jim's breathing hitch. A moment later, Spock finds himself with a lapful of very naked Jim as Jim gazes intently at him.  
   
Spock goes rigid, wishing to push him away, because Jim is in his lap and naked, which is not a good combination, considering that he is naked as well, but Jim grips his shoulders hard, eyes wide and impossibly blue. "You love me? Like, in love?"  
   
Sighing, Spock presses a kiss to Jim's temple, breathing in his scent and attempting to ignore Jim's nudity, and failing.  
   
He cannot quite pinpoint when his love for Jim started shifting into this kind of love—this illogical, needy, possessive, and completely overwhelming love—but he remembers the very first time he got an erection when Jim pressed against him, how disgusted with himself he was and how he detested himself because he was still unable to push Jim away, too accustomed to his affection and his touch. He remembers the self-loathing and his inability to look at Nyota, his deep shame and guilt. He remembers nights spent thinking that some other male was touching his Jim, feeling rage like no other—rage he had no right to feel.  But he cannot fight it anymore—cannot lie to Jim—it is undeniable that he loves Jim like a man loves another man.  
   
"Yes," he says.  
   
Jim grins widely against his cheek. "Then what's the problem, silly?"  
   
Unable to help himself, Spock nuzzles the side of his face. "Because we cannot, Jim."  
   
"Why the hell not? I love you, you love me, we're both adults, we aren't related by blood." Jim takes a deep breath. "It's because of Mom, isn't it?"  
   
"Partially," Spock says, pressing shallow kisses to the side of his face. Jim sighs and shifts closer until their chests are pressed together and Spock's erection presses snugly against Jim's backside. Grasping at his slipping control, Spock says, "A relationship between you and me would ruin the relationship between you and your mother forever. Even though I am certain Nyota no longer loves me, it changes nothing. Your relationship with her would never be the same, and there is a 79.21% chance that you would end up resenting me for that. I do not wish you to resent me."  
   
"Oh," Jim says, frowning. The thought most likely has not even occurred to him. Spock ruthlessly suppresses the selfish urge to convince Jim that it does not matter, that he would do his best to make Jim happy, Nyota or not. He is so weak when it comes to Jim it is distasteful.  
   
"I know that, Spock," Jim says with a sigh, surprising him. "I'm not stupid. But it's a bit late for that, don't you think? At this point I don't think it would matter much if we get together or not. The deed is done and the bridges are burned. She knows I love you, she knows we slept together, pon farr or no pon farr, and it's not gonna change. It would be awkward as fuck anyway." Jim meets his eyes before pressing a chaste kiss to Spock's lips. "I want this. You. More than anything."  
   
Spock inhales sharply, and the next thing he knows, they are kissing. When Jim moans and slides his tongue into Spock's mouth, the last of his self-control evaporates.  
   
With a guttural growl, he pushes Jim back on the bed and, stretching on top of him, loses himself in Jim's scent, taste, feel, covering every inch of Jim's body in hot, open-mouthed kisses, unable to get enough, touching everything he can reach and illogically wishing he had more hands and more lips.  
   
He sucks on Jim's light-brown nipples greedily—something he always wished to do when he saw Jim bare-chested—making Jim groan and dig his fingers into his back. "Fuck—fuck me," he breathes out.  
   
"You must be sore," Spock grinds out, even though he never wished for anything more in his life.  
   
Jim smiles dazedly. "Not that sore—I used a dermal regenerator. Come on."  
   
Spock has always had trouble denying him anything.  
   
His fingers tremble as he carefully prepares Jim, and when he finally slides into him, he can't look away from Jim's face. He watches his swollen red lips form a silent 'o,' face flush and eyes glaze over, and takes in every nuance of Jim's expression.  
   
Their eyes meet and hold as Spock props himself above Jim and begins thrusting into him slowly but firmly, gritting his teeth and trying to control himself. He  _must_  be gentle, but it is difficult when all he wishes is to take Jim hard.  
   
"God," Jim gasps out and pulls him closer, fully down, until their foreheads are pressed together as Spock thrusts in and out. They breathe together, exchanging soft, needy kisses, and this is unlike anything Spock has ever experienced. He has never felt such a degree of intimacy during sexual intercourse, such joy and pleasure. He feels almost inebriated, unable to get enough of Jim, and keeps kissing him fervently. He is greedy, but Jim's touch is as greedy as his. They paw at each other, covering each other's faces and lips with needy kisses.  
   
Soon enough, Spock can no longer keep the slow rhythm. The muscles in his back strain as he fights to control the rapidly approaching orgasm. He kisses Jim harder, swallowing Jim's moans as his thrusts lose their rhythm, turning into a series of rough, uncoordinated jerks. Jim doesn't complain, writhing under him and clutching at him harder, clutching him closer—so good—Jim—  
   
Spock comes, shuddering and groaning.  
   
"Ohh," Jim moans out as Spock's semen fills him and orgasms as well, clinging to Spock tightly.  
   
They breathe in and breathe out together as a hush falls upon the room.  
   
"Fucking hell," Jim says with a faint laugh.  
   
"Indeed," Spock murmurs, dropping his forehead against Jim's. He closes his eyes, inhaling Jim's scent.  
   
He believes he is…happy, but a part of him still cannot believe they have done this.  
   
He thinks of Nyota and has to suppress a sigh. Even though he knows that Nyota wished for a divorce prior to him and Jim having physical intimacy and that pon farr was something beyond their control, it will not be easy for her to see Jim and him together.  
   
The guilt he feels is nothing new. He never wished to cause her pain—does not wish to cause her pain. He still has a great affection for her, but it is simply not enough. Not when all his being wishes to be with Jim, wishes for Jim to belong to him, to have the freedom to touch him and love him—loving him like a lover, like a partner, not like an adoptive father.  
   
Despite his guilt and shame, logically Spock knows that it is for the best. Nyota and he…They have never been right for each other. Their sexual relations were always satisfactory, but there was no true intimacy between them, and Nyota deserves to find an individual who can love her. Spock cannot do it—could never do it, if he is honest with himself. He married her because he truly thought that the affection he felt for Nyota was love, but now he knows how mistaken he was.  
   
"So what now?" Jim says quietly, fingers drawing patterns on Spock's back. Spock knows he must be heavy, but Jim is not complaining.  
   
"I do not know," he says truthfully, nuzzling the side of Jim's cheek.  
   
"Me either," Jim says with a heavy sigh. "Shit, it's gonna be so awkward, isn't? Facing mom, I mean."  
   
Spock kisses him on the lips, then again. He cannot get enough. "The fault is mine. I will take all the blame."  
   
Jim chuckles. "Don't be silly, Spock. Of course it's my fault. If you didn't adopt me, it wouldn't have happened. Unless…" He goes strangely quiet. Spock can see him swallow visibly. Jim looks away. "Did you love him? Are you just… transferring it to me?"  
   
Raising himself on an elbow, Spock eyes Jim's strong profile.  _Such an illogical creature,_  he thinks affectionately. "Captain James T. Kirk was my closest friend. I admired him greatly and held true affection for him. I would not deny that I…appreciated his physical attractiveness." Jim's jaw tenses and a muscle in his cheek flexes beneath his stubble. "However," Spock continues, stroking Jim's jaw-line with his thumb. "I did not love him, Jim. You are far more precious to me than he ever was."  _More precious than anything_.  
   
Jim looks back at him. "Yeah?" he says with such a brilliant smile that it takes Spock's breath away.  
   
He stares into Jim's smiling blue eyes and cannot believe that this is his. His to love, his to cherish, his to protect, his to be weak for.  
   
He thinks of uncomfortable conversations with Nyota and Leonard waiting for him in the near future, of the inevitable gossip and the crew's reaction, but this—his Jim—is more than worth it.  
   
 _So worth it_ , he thinks as Jim loops his arms around his neck and pulls Spock down to kiss his smiling lips.  
   
 

 

~*~

 

-Nyota-

   
   
   
She is finishing packing when the door chimes.  
   
She knows who it is. She knew he would come to say goodbye before she left.  
   
"Enter," she says and turns around.  
   
Jim comes in, dressed in black regulation pants and black undershirt, and for a moment she feels such a strong déjà-vu that it leaves her breathless. If she didn't know better, she would say that the young man before her was Captain James T. Kirk, twenty-six.  
   
But she knows better. This is Ensign James T. Kirk, eighteen. Her son.  
   
Jim pushes a hand into his back pocket. "Are you sure you want to leave?"  
   
"I'm sure," she says. It's true. She gave it a lot of thought and knows that it's for the best. She always wanted to try herself as an Academy instructor anyway, and she can finally return to working on the Preservers project. She won't miss space much, and she definitely won't miss the pitying looks the crew keeps giving her. Everyone knows that the divorce is in the works, and though Spock and Jim are discreet, things like that are impossible to hide for long. Sooner or later, everyone will find out, and she'd rather not be on the  _Enterprise_  when they do.  
   
Jim stares at her, blue eyes inscrutable. "Well, if you're sure." He smiles awkwardly. "And well, you'll make a really hot instructor."  
   
 _Come on, Jim, you can do better than that_ , she thinks but forces a chuckle. "Flatterer. Well, I've always had a thing for that uniform."  
   
A strained silence stretches between them. Right. Probably not the best topic for conversation, considering that Spock was an instructor at the Academy when she fell in love with him.  
   
"Awkward," Jim says, grimacing.  
   
Nyota snorts. "Very."  
   
Jim sighs heavily, running a hand over his face. "Fucking hell, I hate it. The awkwardness, I mean."  
   
She says nothing, because really, what is there to say?  
   
For the lack of anything to say, Nyota turns back to her bag and resumes packing.  
   
She is zipping the bag shut when she feels a hand on her shoulder. She tenses, but doesn't turn around.  
   
"I'm sorry, mom," Jim says hoarsely, and god, his voice is just... "I mean, I'm not sorry for loving Spock—I won't apologize for that—but I never wanted to hurt you. I— I don't want you go. I'm gonna miss you."  
   
She bites her lip, her eyes stinging. She missed him. And god, how she'll miss him.  
   
"Me too, Jim," she says through the lump in her throat. "Me too."  
   
He hugs her. It's pretty awkward and uncomfortable until she turns around and rests her head on his shoulder. He's much taller than her, and when the hell did that happen?  
   
"I love you, mom," he says quietly, burying his face in her hair.  
   
She closes her eyes and thinks of that night eight years ago when she made the decision to have a son. If she hadn’t, none of this would have happened. Maybe Spock and she would still have been together.  
   
Maybe not. Or maybe Spock would be dead.  
   
"I love you, too, baby," she whispers and hugs him hard.  
   
She regrets many things in her life, but not this.  
   
Never this.  
   
 

The End


End file.
